


The Owl II

by Delphi



Series: Fantastic Beasts [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dirty Talk, Epistolary, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 09:24:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/951424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delphi/pseuds/Delphi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which indiscreet correspondence is exchanged.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Owl II

Silvanus Kettleburn  
The Palace Hotel  
Nairobi, Kenya

June 30th, 1983

Dear Silvanus,

I hope this letter finds you well and that your accommodations are to your liking. At the time of writing this, I have moved into my lodgings at the Leaky Cauldron. The attic suite is much more suited to my purposes, and I look forward to a summer without drunken idiots stomping around above my head.

As per your suggestion, I am reading Archambault's _On Pedagogy_. Although I am loath to mark them, I am considering instituting essays for next year's classes. I doubt this will be any more effective than quizzes in making certain that the ~~dunderheads~~ students actually open their textbooks, but at least they will not be taking up class time in order to demonstrate their ignorance.

The end of year meeting with our mutual colleague was survived. He requested that I send you his regards. I informed him that I did not expect to see you until September, but here they are nonetheless.

Regards (mine, primarily),  
Severus Snape

 

Severus Snape  
c/o The Leaky Cauldron  
London, England

July 6th, 1983

My Dear Severus,

Your personal regards are accepted warmly and with fond reminiscence.

Tiresome though they may be to mark, essays are at worst an equal waste of your students' time as your own, and at best they often paint a better picture of where exactly the thought process has gone awry. In addition, I can vouch that Minerva McGonagall is amenable to foisting penmanship practice on her Gryffindors if you provide proof of illegibility.

My lodgings are very satisfactory this year. The hotel is new construction and very well-appointed. It is not quite as ornate as the name might suggest, but much more comfortable than most castles and palaces I have had occasion to visit, as it has the benefit of electricity, modern plumbing, and something called a jetted bathtub.

The bed, I must say, is noteworthy. It is large enough for five and outfitted with bedding that I am very tempted to pinch, despite the fact that it would be utterly unsuitable for the climate of Northern Scotland.

There is something about a hotel room, I have found, that makes one's mind turn to sexual curiosity. I suspect it is the combination of being away from home and having one's surroundings dominated by a large bed fitted with extravagant sheets that someone else will have to clean. (That is not to say that cheap hotels don't have their own appeal.) I am quite aware that a young man such as yourself may have already secured company of one form or another for the duration of the summer, but I am quite on my own here and cannot keep my mind off the subject of what I would like to do to you on the silk sheets with which I have been temporarily indulged.

I think I should like to undress you entirely and have you lie down atop the bed. You would look very well against the dark red of the bedding. Then, with the idle hours that even a working holiday allow for, I would conduct an experiment to see exactly how long you can restrain yourself.

As decadent as they are, I think bonds would be cheating, as would be a gag. You would have to be very quiet to keep from disturbing the neighbours or alerting the staff to our endeavour. Perhaps you could hold tight to the headboard if you do not think you could keep from touching yourself once fully roused. I have seen the way your hands give a start when you begin to harden. Your stomach quavers (are you aware of that? It is perfectly charming) and your fingers twitch, as though you are too accustomed to being brusque and solitary with your pleasure.

Not to worry, I would touch you to your heart's content. In the interest of fairness and my own entertainment, I would do my utmost to go slowly. I enjoy the way you bite your lip when your prick is being stroked. You always try to watch, but in time your eyes squeeze shut and you start to fidget deliciously. I would be most open to any direction (aside, of course, from "faster" or "now" or your rather fetching "get on with it"). If you wished to be kissed as I stroked you off, I would be very happy to oblige, and if you think very well of your self-control, I would be equally pleased to work my way down those particularly ticklish lines of your neck to suck your lovely nipples until they were red and sensitive.

How long do you suppose you could last. Ten minutes? Fifteen? I think that if you lasted for twenty, you would be deliciously out of sorts by the end: tousled, flushed, perhaps even begging. It would be tempting to let you finish in my hand. You look very well when you are disheveled and debauched, and I should like to see you spattered with your own spending when it finally comes. If you had been very co-operative, however, I would let you come in my mouth instead. That is always so much nicer, is it not? I love how you feel against my tongue when you are poised to spend. You tremble, and your breathing comes harder, and on occasion you cover your mouth in an attempt to stifle the sounds you make. I wish you would not try, for on an idle day in rainy Nairobi, the remembrance is all I have to pass the time.

___ Outstanding  
___ Exceeds Expectations  
___ Acceptable  
___ Poor  
___ Dreadful  
___ Troll

I hope you will consider grading the above work, both for your own practice and my own edification.

Fondly,  
Silvanus Kettleburn

 

Severus Snape  
c/o The Leaky Cauldron  
London, England

July 17th, 1983

Dear Severus,

I am certain that you find yourself very busy, but ~~for the love of god~~ I would be very appreciative if you could confirm that you received my letter of July 6th and that it did not find its way into anonymous but horrified hands halfway between Nairobi and London.

See above note.

Most gratefully,  
Silvanus Kettleburn

 

Silvanus Kettleburn  
Masai Mara Park  
Nairobi, Kenya

July 22nd, 1983

Mark: Acceptable

Lacked a cohesive thesis and strong conclusion.

Sincerely,  
Severus Snape

 

Severus Snape  
c/o The Leaky Cauldron  
London, England

July 29th, 1983

Dearest Severus,

Due to the limitations of the written word, I am unable to tell whether your last missive was genuinely disapproving or charmingly demure. In light of the length of our association, I strongly suspect it is some combination of the two. Consider me suitably chastened, nonetheless, and my Ravenclaw pride dented at so low a mark. In my defence, the idea was for you to find your own conclusion (or at least that I might be allowed to imagine you doing so).

At any rate, I hope that you are having a more entertaining summer than I am. Construction outside the park has altered the water buffalo's migration plan this month, and I have had to move camp a half-dozen times already to keep up and keep out of the way, which has hardly left much time or opportunity for suitable pardine observation. I have managed some sketching and birding, which has made for an enjoyable if unproductive holiday thus far. My camera film has been largely held in reserve in case August proves more fruitful, but I took a few shots of an absolutely stunning Grey-cheeked Hornbill this morning.

There are days when I think I would be utterly content staying here for the rest of my life. As I write this, it is early morning and still quite cool. Mouse is nursing a sore nose after an unsuccessful altercation with a rhinoceros beetle, but has rallied and is showing great interest in a rather unimpressed crake perched atop the tent. The sun is rising behind a scattering of acacia trees, and there is a troupe of elephants on the horizon, making their way to their watering spot to spend the day wallowing.

Then, of course, I am reminded of the pleasures of hot running water, and food rather more expertly cooked than I and my campfire allow, and of course the benefits of company. There is always Nairobi, however. I have often thought I might relocate there when I retire—not that I plan to do so anytime soon. Until then, I do look forward to returning to Hogwarts and to my friendships there.

Yours fondly,  
Silvanus L. Kettleburn

 

Silvanus Kettleburn  
Masai Mara Park  
Nairobi, Kenya

August 5th, 1983

Dear Silvanus,

I cannot wax poetic about London in the summertime. It is hot and it is crowded and it is noisy.

I hope that my response was taken as constructive criticism and not censure. In terms of content, I had no complaints. If you are very bored, I would not stop you from writing whatever you wished to pass the time.

Sincerely,  
Severus Snape

 

Severus Snape  
c/o The Leaky Cauldron  
London, England  
   
August 12th

Dearest Severus,

I fear you often underestimate both my capacity for boredom where rainy days are concerned and my libidinous tendencies where you are concerned.

At this moment, I and every other sensible creature in the park have been driven to shelter to escape an unseasonable downpour. The sound of the rain tapping on the roof of my tent is cosy enough, but my lodgings lack the comforts and charm of my apartments and associations at the school. I am thinking in particular of this Easter Sunday past, and the quiet of the castle between the patter of rain, and the industry we made of our idleness.

If I recall correctly, in the space of eight hours and the span of three rooms, we spent six times between us; I will give you due credit for the lion's share. I trust it is not too indelicate between intimate friends to enquire as to how many times a strapping young specimen such as yourself can come in the course of a day? 

I think, as my primary research has been deferred due to inclement weather, I should like to pursue this line of inquiry. If you were here with me, I can think of no better way to wait out the rain than to test the limits of your capabilities. 

First, I would very much like to see you pleasure yourself. You will be shocked (or, perhaps, arch a disapproving eyebrow) to know that among more worthy reading, I have taken with me the summer issue of _The Peridot_ for these cold and lonely nights. Might you enjoy hearing a scandalous tale while you show me how you best like to be touched? Or perhaps, if you might indulge me, you could read a saucy letter or two as you stroke your delectable prick. I should like that very much, having a terrible weakness for the particular timbre of your voice, and for the way your marvellous brain begins to fail you as you fall into pleasure. I hope you will not insist on self-conscious bluster or shyness, for I love nothing better than when your words falter, and your brow creases, and you close your eyes and lick your lips, obviously chasing some thought that eludes you as your breathing grows rough and your fingers curl.

Next, I do not think I could resist a lengthy course of heavy petting. You are always deliciously warm and loose-limbed after you have spent, and I should like to kiss you until you rouse again—practice my French and my Greek, worldly men as we are, with your clever tongue and welcoming thighs. I expect we could keep ourselves quite warm, even in this grey chill, entwined like amorous molluscs and rutting until you spill upon my stomach with a slow and satisfied screw of your hips. 

Then, lest you think me unsolicitous to the phenomenon of chafing, rest assured I would give you my mouth as many times as you wished to use it. If I am to lounge lazily in my bedroll, I would much rather do so with your fingers in my hair and your prick between my lips. As many time as you could muster, I would swallow every drop of seed you spent, until perhaps you have nothing more at all to give and are left writhing through a fruitless climax, flushed and gasping and succumbing to well-earned exhaustion.

But here, as it happens, the rain has stopped. How the time flies when one is thinking fondly of home. I thank you for your willing ear and hope that if London is characteristically damp, you might stay indoors before the fire and share any idle thoughts of your own.

Yours,  
Silvanus Kettleburn

 

Silvanus Kettleburn  
Masai Mara Park  
Nairobi, Kenya

August 19th

Dear Silvanus,

The answer is five times. I will concede that certain variables may have been missing and am amenable to repeating the experiment upon your return.

~~I would rather like~~ ~~I have been imagining~~

I would not dream of denying you the comforts of your jetted tub when you return to civilization, but perhaps you might put off trimming your hair and beard and changing from your expeditionary clothes, if you are in a hurry. 

I intend to be restored to my rooms at Hogwarts upon your arrival.

Sincerely,  
Severus Snape


End file.
